


Mind Games

by PaperbackTrash



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 14:53:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperbackTrash/pseuds/PaperbackTrash
Summary: Feyre invades Lucien's mind and gets a little more than she bargained for.





	Mind Games

****Feyre and her sisters lay sprawled in the garden of the town house. Elain’s flowers had fully bloomed now and under the high sun their colours were breath taking. Since the war the three sisters had lived for the days like these, the days were they did nothing but enjoy each other’s company. Feyre couldn’t help but feel that they had missed out when they were younger, that they had lost those years of bonding and loving one another. They had eternity now to make up for it, but she still mourned the time they had missed, the years that they didn’t even try. Light footsteps sounded in the distance and once the scent of the visitor hit them Nesta swore, colourfully, and loudly enough for him to hear. _Lucien._  It had been a year since the war, since they finally started to piece together their lives, yet Nesta still loathed him with every inch of her body. Feyre let out a soft chuckle at her sister’s outburst as Elain’s head whipped to face him, her delicate cheeks reddening slightly at the sight of him. She still hadn’t accepted the bond, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to, she wasn’t sure if her feelings lay elsewhere, in an Illyrian camp training the females maybe. Nesta’s face slipped back into that cold mask that had rarely been seen since the mating bond with Cassian had clicked into place. Yet she still reserved that face, that unrelenting stare that made most people cower, solely for Lucien. As he approached he bowed slightly, dipping his head to each sister in turn before taking his seat next to Elain on the grass, Nesta rolled her eyes and didn’t break the harsh glare she had firmly fixed on him. He hadn’t pushed the idea of the bond in months now but she couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t try again. Something wicked flashed in her eyes as a predatory smile hinted at the corner of lips.

Lithely rising to her feet in one swift and graceful movement, Nesta strode to the kitchen calling Feyre after her, claiming she needed help with drinks. Without question Feyre followed her older sister into the house. Just as they were out of earshot of the garden Nesta whirled on her.

“Tap in to his mind. Do that listening thing.” She said pointing at her own head. 

Feyre looked at her with an expression of shock.

“Nesta I can’t…” 

Nesta cut her off. “Bullshit, I’ve seen you do it before. Just sneak in there dig a little and tell me when he’s going to back away from her.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I doubt he knows what he’s feeling right now.” Feyre’s voice was incredulous.

“Okay then. Tell me if he’s planning something today so I can get Cass over here and we can kick his ass.” 

Nesta stared her sister down. Her fierce eyes, so much like Feyre’s but harsher somehow, bending her to her will. 

“Please Feyre.” She asked softly, pleading.

The words melted Feyre, Nesta never asked for anything nicely unless she was desperate. It went against every instinct she had, but she couldn’t deny her sister, not when their relationship was still new and tentative. She cast her mind out, invisible fingers gliding outward, seeking their prey. The fingers turned to talons as they hit their target and caressed themselves against the walls of Lucien’s mind. It was soft, like warm butter, so different to the black gleaming adamant that protected her mate’s thoughts. Shame and guilt flooded through Feyre as she felt Lucien’s head open to her, completely unaware of the intrusion, unaware that his darkest thoughts would soon be shared.

Looking at Elain through Lucien’s eyes was both lovely and heart breaking.  _She saw her sister, saw the beauty in every freckle on her soft, in every curl of her golden brown hair, in the way her eyes lit and sparkled as she reeled off names of the flowers she had planted. Feyre also felt the rejection, no not rejection, he didn’t feel rejected she realised, but he felt like he should. He thought of Jesminda, and how different she and Elain were. How her wildness was so at odds with Elain’s gentleness, how their love had been fierce and passionate and all consuming, while with Elain, well he didn’t know what he was to Elain, what she was to him._  His mind snapped to Vassa and Feyre gasped. 

“What is it?” Nesta asked nervously. 

Feyre couldn’t hide her shock. “He…He thinks he loves Vassa?”

“The mortal queen?”

Feyre nodded.

“He prefers that rude arrogant hussy over our sister? Has the idiot even seen how beautiful Elain is? You’re in his mind is he actually looking at her?” Nesta’s voice rose in anger.

Feyre’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you kidding me?” 

“Well, at least he can leave her alone now.”

Through the bond Feyre had weaved between her and Lucien she felt him stiffen.

“Shh!” She told her sister. “Something’s happened and you made me miss it.” 

Feyre dug her invisible talons deeper into his mind trying to find the source of his sudden discomfort.

She instantly regretted the prying. His thoughts had turned  _dark_. He saw Jesminda.  _Her broken body crumpled on the floor. As he approached her body began to shift, to change. He stared down at the face of the new victim._ Feyre fell to her knees, not feeling the pain of the solid wood floor as she collided with it _. It was Rhys, his body broken and contorted. His head bent unnaturally to the side as blood unhurriedly running from wounds she could not see, the look on his beautiful face was one of pure terror._ It all happened to quickly then, the thoughts come fast and unyielding.  _Cassian’s mangled wings. Azriel full of those ash bolts. Mor falling, crumpling before the King of Hybern. And Nesta. Nesta’s piercing screeching, trashing and bucking as she was forced into that cauldron._ Feyre’s mind snapped back into her own. She remained hunched on the floor, a sob ripping from deep within her chest as she relived every painful moment of the day. And Rhys. His dead body broken and bloodied, so different from the day he had actually died but still, that lifeless corpse had haunted her dreams. She felt Nesta’s hands on her soothing gently.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta asked sounding panicked.

Her hands continued smoothing Feyre’s back lovingly. 

“Rhys. Dead.” Was all she could get out. 

Nesta’s arms went around her, cradling her, rocking gently as the rasping cries continued. Feyre didn’t know how long she stayed like that, weeping into her sister’s arms, but the sound of boots against wood pulled her from her misery. She stared up with a tear stained face to see Lucien. 

“Don’t ever look inside my head again.” His voice was cold and flat.

“I’m sorry.” It was barely more than a whisper.

“Don’t ever look inside my head again.” He repeated.

A deafening silence washed over them as he remained glaring at her. She hadn’t seen him look at her like that, with disgust, since the day in the woods when he tried to take her back to Tamlin. 

“How did you know?” Feyre asked quietly.

“She,” He jabbed a finger in Nesta’s direction. “needs to keep her voice down.”   
Nesta scowled at him. 

“Don’t. Ever. Look. Inside. My. Head. Again.” He emphasised every word.   
“I won’t. I promise.” 

Lucien looked at her, weighing up her assurance. His eyes softened slightly as he held a hand out to her. She took it eagerly, completely consumed by guilt. Assessing her again, Lucien took in her bloodshot eyes and trembling hands. He embraced his friend gently, patting her hair. 

“If it happens again I’m showing you Beron naked.” He told her bluntly.

She shuddered dramatically, a small smile lighting her sad face. 

“That I definitely do not want to see.”

He chuckled and held her a bit tighter.


End file.
